Chapter 10
Four weeks before the wedding
Ella
The following Fridayevening, I was back at our apartment for about an hour when someone pounded on the door like a maniac: whomp-whomp-whomp-whomp.
Anybody who was mad enough to hit the door like that? You bet your butt I used the peephole.
The woman outside our door was probably pretty when her face wasn’t pinched into a snarl. Her dark brown hair was cut into a wavy bob, a lock of which was plastered to her forehead. Her hazel eyes darted this way and that, as if she expected the police to show up. But her hands were free of any weapons. However, she was holding the very recognizable cream and silver–toned heavy stock invitation I recognized immediately.
I opened the door. “Can I help you?”
All the fight went out of her, and she gaped at me.
I hadn’t planned it, but I knew I looked good; I’d been getting ready to go out with some girl friends as one of my last hurrahs before getting hitched, which was a rather dark view of marriage, I supposed. We were headed out for drinks at a very nice bar downtown.
“You Ella? Stewart?” She regained some of her attitude.
“You Mary?” I asked right back.
“What the HELL is this?!” She waved the wedding invite in my face. “I know he’s getting married. He TOLD me, so this isn’t some gotcha—”
“I know,” I said as calmly as I could. Under my fresh outfit I was sweating a little, TBH. “He told me about you too.”
Although that had only happened after I’d already figured it out myself. I wondered when he’d told her about me or if she was bluffing.
“So what is...wait, what? What is this supposed to be?” Clearly she thought this was going to go down a different way. Now she looked like a woman trying to follow driving instructions after accidentally knocking Siri into another language.
I folded my arms. “You want to come in?”
“No!” She gaped at me, and I got it. Beyond the threshold was the life Charlie and I lived as a couple. It would be our married home. She crumpled the luxe paper in her hand and held her fist up. “I want to know exactly who you think you are, sending me this.”
“Charlie cares about—”
“Charlie LOVES me,”
I bit my tongue against pointing out that if he loved her so much, why was he marrying me?
“I didn’t send an invite to antagonize you,” I managed instead. “You’re important to Charlie. Weddings are about having the people you care about surrounding you on your special day. I thought you might want to be there. And...” I took a deep breath, “so that you, Charlie, and I all know the score. I’m marrying him, but you and I know about each other. You know, fresh start.”
Slowly, her hand came down, still shaking a little. When she opened her mouth, I thought she was going to ask to come in after all. Instead, she said, “He should be marrying me.”
I shrugged. “Why isn’t he?”
“Fuck you, you high-box bitch.” Guess I’d hit a nerve.
“Look, it sounds like your problem is with Charlie, not me.” Trying not to be obvious, I wedged my foot behind the door so I could push it closed quickly if she attacked. “I sent you an invite because I wanted you to know that as long as it doesn’t disrupt my life, I’m fine with the two of you spending time together. Just as long as you know I am the wife. I want his money, and if there are kids, he needs to take care of my kids first. But whatever you two do together, that’s not my problem.”
Her eyes filled with unshed tears, and I knew what I was saying was a pretty big pill to swallow; after all, she had her own kid, and she probably wanted that child taken care of and loved. I got it. But as she said, I supposed I was a bit of a high-box bitch. And at least that part of myself I was fully able to embrace.
“Charlie loves me.”
I shrugged. “You want him? You’ve got a month to collect your boy. But when he stands at the altar in four weeks and says my name, I want you to recognize your place in this relationship.”
I did want her to see Charlie do that. Whatever pillow-talk fantasies they had about the future, I was pretty sure when Mary saw Charlie swear allegiance to me in front of his nearest and dearest, it would be hard for her not to get the picture.
“Maybe I will!” she shouted. “And when I do, I’m taking all of him. Because that prenup he made you sign is tighter than a nun’s cootch—”
OK, yeah, I was done here. I closed the door in her face, hoping I’d made the right choice inviting her to our wedding. One thing was for sure. I’d seen her long enough to know this was never going to turn into my second chance at a happy threesome.
The thought alone was enough to make me lean against the door, my stomach dropping. Hailey and Jack were the only ones I wanted, and no one could replace them. I would’ve done anything for one more night together. It was a selfish, self-centered fantasy. I had no right to call them up for a last-minute booty call weeks before my wedding and nothing to offer except stringing them along as I went through with this marriage.
All I could do was wait and hope that, as Jack had threatened, they’d come to me.
* * *
I was three drinksinto my last hurrah girls’ night when my phone buzzed.
Theo: Got my invite! I’m bringing someone. Lucas. You know him.
I rolled my eyes drunkenly at my phone. Yeah, Theo. I suppose I know the guy who graduated in your class and spent a few summers schlepping pool service drinks at Rolling Green.
But that was Theo—people got distracted because he was tall and good-looking. Sure, he was arrogant, verging on rudeness, and frankly, you had to put up with a lot of bullshit with him, but Theo had a good heart. I hoped Lucas knew that. Before I could give him the old thumbs-up emoji, another text came in from him.
Theo: (Video attachment)
Club lights pulsing, I pressed play and watched it download. When it did, I caught a three-second clip of the dirtiest part of the video Theo had once taken of Jack, Hailey, and me—all of us furiously sticking our hands down each other’s pants, horny and stupid and green.
OK, forget every nice thing I said about Theo.
I broke out in a cold sweat. What the hell did this mean? My thoughts raced in a little drunken circle. I could feel myself getting dizzy over it. Was he trying to blackmail me?
“You ready to dance?!” my friend hollered in my ear, followed quickly by, “You OK? Not gonna puke or—”
“Yes! I mean, no. I’m OK, go dance!” I shouted at her.
Theo had nursed a huge crush on Hailey that summer. And when Theo found us together at the fair that day, he’d pulled out his phone and taken a video...and then he’d blackmailed us with it.
Hailey, Jack, and I had paid him off. As far as I knew, Jack had ended his friendship with Theo over it for a while. They had eventually worked it out, and Theo had honestly apologized for what he’d done. Anxiously, I peered over my shoulder, terrified someone would see the brightly lit phone screen and the damning moments caught on it.
When I checked, there was another text from Theo.
Theo: Go to The Springfield Hotel downtown. Room 656.
My pulse hammered. What the fuck, Theo? I slammed the rest of my drink.
Me: You utter, prolapsed asshole
Theo: It’s not bad I swear
Theo: It’s a surprise
I squinted at the texts. It was possible this wasn’t a shake-down, but only because Theo had a long history of not actually having evil intentions when you dug deep enough into his shit-tastic behavior.
Theo: Frick. It’s not for me, it’s—
Theo: Jack wanted to surprise you. Like a bachelorette party. They’re over there now.
My heart pounded too fast, pushing alcohol into my brain, making me light-headed and confused.
Theo: He said to send you the video so you’d remember
Me: Just to be clear, are you blackmailing me or not?
My phone vibrated with an incoming call. I snapped it up.
“No. I wouldn’t do that again. Frick. Look: go, don’t go. I did what Jack asked me to do, because I owe him an—and I love you, and I want you to be happy. Not like love you, love you, even though you’re hot. Point is, you’re my friend. If you disinvite me to the wedding, have a nice life,” Theo said.
“Wow.” I didn’t know how to respond. “Theo, that’s maybe the kindest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“I know. I’m learning how to say nice things. Hope to see you at your wedding. GOODBYE.” Every word was full of toddler-like aggravation, as though I were forcing him to say these things.
“Ella!” My friends made their way through the crowd and fell into the seats around our table, full of laughter. “There are so many hotties here tonight. Is that why you’re not on the dance floor with us? It’s not cheating until you’re married! This is your last chance! Come on!”
“I think I’ve got a migraine coming on,” I lied.
“No! Oh no!” All of them were sloppy drunk. It actually did look like a good time.
“The strobe light got me.” I put my hand up to shield my eyes from the dance lights. “I think I’m just gonna—”
“No! NoooOoooo!” Hands wrapped around my forearms, holding me in place with drunken comradery. And then one of them said, “Do you want to call Charlie and see if he can pick you up?”
“No!” I practically yelped.
Fortunately, the music was loud. Only my friend Jan seemed to pick up on my reaction. “Do you really have a headache, or are you...?” She leered at me.
I flushed, caught.
“Were you bailing on us to go be with...Charlie?”
“Yeah...uh yeah, you got me.”
Jan tipped me a wink, and I wasn’t sure if she was covering for me or if she honestly thought I was a lovestruck bride desperate for more time with my fiancé.
“Nobody call him then,” Jan ordered as the group got up to hit the bar for more drinks. “It’s gonna be a surprise.”
“Congratulations, Ella!” the group chimed as they stood. Clearly, nobody was invested in calling Charlie for any reason, and just as clearly, no one cared if I stayed so long as the party continued.
Feeling like a felon, I reminded myself of Mary, a.k.a. Bob From Work, and how I’d told Charlie straight up I intended for us to have an open marriage. He’d heard me. He’d agreed. He’d even told me to keep it private. I wasn’t doing anything wrong.
“I really do have a headache,” I lied, gathering my purse and phone.
“Just take an Uber sweetie,” Jan assured me. “And have a good night.”
* * *
Half an hour later, I stood in the Springfield Hotel elevator, making my way to the sixth floor. The doors slid open, and I stepped out into an empty hotel hall. Checking the brass plaques, I went left. It almost felt as though I were floating along the ceiling, watching myself walk down the hall like any other person going to a hotel room for perfectly respectable reasons.
I let the volume go up on my thoughts for a moment. What are you doing? You are getting married in a month!
I turned the volume down low again. I’d told Charlie I was opening our relationship. Charlie didn’t notify me about Mary, so I was under no obligation to return the favor. Still, my legs felt coltish as I walked, ankles weak, like I might twist one with the slightest misstep. Anyone might see me here, and what would my excuse be? I lived in town. I had no reason to need a hotel room. Charlie knowing was one thing...what if other people found out?
It was my last hurrah, my last night of freedom before the big day. I had to risk it.
Room 656. On the corner. Here in the hallway, there was a narrow floor-to-ceiling window to peer down at the drop, downtown below. I leaned into the window, my forehead pressed against the glass, looking down.
Jump? Jump.
I knocked on the door, three loud raps, then stood, breathless. There was too much adrenaline. I was afraid I would bolt down the hall, giggle-screaming like a fool, uncontrollable energy taking over.
The door swung open.
He looked as scared to see me as I was to see him. His Adam’s apple bobbed once, and he held onto the door like it was holding him up.
“Jack.” I smiled. All thoughts of bolting? Gone.
His face warmed. “Welcome to your bachelorette party.”
He stepped back, holding the door as I entered the suite. My heart beat so hard and fast I could only hear the roar of my pulse. For a moment I was painfully sure the room would be filled with friends from high school, an actual party. In fact, there was someone just out of view, their legs visible as I came out of the short hall made by the bathroom and closet.
Hailey stood, arms crossed, face pinched with anger. But no others. The two of them alone in a room with me was too explosively attractive, and the alcohol from the club had diminished my inhibitions.
“What is this?” My voice barely registered. I felt like a literal dam, one crack and I would break.
“Take off your clothes.” Hailey’s eyes narrowed. “Or get out.”
* * *
Hailey
Ella’s eyes dartedto Jack.
“Don’t look at him. Look at me.”
Her eyes lit back to mine, startled, beginning to burn with anger. Probably Ella Stewart didn’t get many people bossing her around. Of course, I was scared as hell she’d call my bluff and walk out the door. I trembled with rage and fear that she’d leave just like she’d left before, that once again I wasn’t enough to make her stay.
“You look exactly the same,” she said.
I bristled, unsure if it was a compliment or an insult. Honestly, I felt a thousand years older. Jobs, paying bills—adulting in general—those were no joke, and I’d been busting my ass since high school to make something of myself. At the same time, her comment turned me back into that insecure eighteen-year-old, as though I’d teleported to the day she’d broken our hearts.
She gestured to her own gorgeous blond hair. “You’ve got waves now, though.”
My knees got weak at her observations, and I flicked a glance at Jack, looking for support. He moved behind me and took a seat in the club chair.
Ella hadn’t left, but she wasn’t getting naked either. I made my hands into fists. There was only one reason I was here, and that was to show Ella Stewart exactly what she had traded for money and privilege. Tomorrow morning I would walk out of here and leave her. See how she liked being the one who got dumped.
“You want to stay at this party?” I reached down into my bag for a couple of scarfs I’d hastily packed this afternoon when Jack had told me his plan. “Follow the rules.”
“What are you going to do?” She still had that unruffled, rich-girl attitude, like she was asking for the specials at a restaurant. Like I was there to serve her.
“What do you think?” I snapped. “Get the fuck undressed.”
She had the nerve to look at Jack again. I twisted to catch whatever conspired between them. He had an eyebrow raised at Ella as though to say This is between the two of you.
I felt a rush of affection for the guy. If he was anything like me, he was so twisted at the sight of her he could barely keep it in his pants. Theo had called maybe ten minutes before Ella had shown up and told Jack the plan was blown, that Ella fully sussed out that Theo wasn’t blackmailing her and that the big surprise at the hotel was me and Jack.
And yet, she was here.
“Fine.” Ella looked around the hotel suite, which was swank as fuck. I couldn’t afford a room here, but Jack had pulled out his credit card, no problem.
With a sniff, she strode out of the living room. But not to the exit. Not away from us. Into the bedroom.
Jack and I looked at each other for a moment of holy fuck do you believe it before I grabbed my scarves and we both hotfooted it into the room behind her.
Ella worked at the buttons of her top, wiggled out of the silky shirt, and carefully placed it, folded, over a chair. Her breasts were unbelievable, half hidden in an expensive lace demicup that probably retailed for my allotted weekly gas money. Her face was unreadable.
Carefully, she shimmied out of her skirt, folded it, and placed it over the top, then stood there in her bra, panties, and high heels. Adrenaline surged through me, making my nerve endings sizzle. I chewed my bottom lip to relieve the tension. She was better than I remembered; not tanned like when she’d hung out at the pool, but muscled and lean. As she shifted, her abdominal muscles flexed. I wasn’t sure if she was showing off or not, but she was perfectly built and well kept.
“Well?” she asked when I’d stared too long.
I gestured to the bed.
She made a face, yanked the comforter off and tossed it to the floor, then primly sat on the edge of the mattress. I made another gesture and she scooted to the middle with her back against the headboard.
Had I expected her to say she was sorry? To beg me to take her back? Did she think we were gonna talk about our feelings and hug at the end? It made me mad. I grabbed two scarves and tied them together, then got up on the bed and straddled her thighs. I wanted her to be nervous, for her icy exterior to crack enough to reveal whatever her thoughts were about what I was doing—was going to do—to her, but it was me who could barely keep from trembling. This close, I caught perfume and the tinge of alcohol on her skin.
“Your hand,” I demanded.
She gave me her right hand. I tied the end of a scarf around it tight. She had to have a rough idea of my plans, but she didn’t fight it.
I knew she was getting married. Jack had told me the guy was cheating on her, but I wasn’t sure what to do with that information. It didn’t fit with what I knew about Ella, who always got what she wanted, when she wanted it. Including me when I’d been eighteen years old and too dumb to know not to fall in love with her.
I leaned across the bed to grab the lightweight sarong Mom had brought me from Mexico. It was thin enough to be scarf material but long enough to wrap around myself like a cover-up. “Other.”
She held out her left hand, tracking my every move. I cinched her wrist harder than I meant to, and she gasped. Carefully, I loosened it, mesmerized by the two karats on her ring finger.
“Take it off,” I said quietly.
Her face went a pretty pink, but she did, wiggling her finger out of it one-handed. More than anything, the weight of it on my palm drove home Ella’s intentions. She was really going to marry someone else. I reached across the bed and set it on the bedside table.
“The safe word is Charlie,” I said evenly, enjoying her flinch.
“Why are you doing this?” She seemed curious and maybe intimidated but not scared. The scarves weren’t tied to the bed frame yet. She could leave easily.
I wanted to tie her down. If the thing that had broken my heart was her leaving, I wanted tonight to be about her not being able to, a few hours when I knew she couldn’t.
What was I doing?
“Do you want me to tie you to the bed?” I demanded, maybe even trying to scare her. She seemed so calm when, inside me, everything was chaos and angst. “So later you can tell yourself you had no choice?”
She shook her head.
She didn’t want me to do this. Or maybe she didn’t want me. My heart beat too hard, all those fears that she would walk out rising in me until my chest felt too tight and I thought I might cry. And I absolutely could not have Ella Stewart reject me and then see me cry about it.
She added, “I want to be here.”
That was worse somehow, and tears did well up, making me bite the inside of my lip super hard to keep them in. I was supposed to break her; that was my revenge. I was supposed to make her cry.
“What’s the safe word?” I demanded.
She swallowed, eyes big. “Ch...Charlie.”
“OK, here’s the first game at your bachelorette party. Truth or Dare. Truth or dare, Ella?”
* * *
Jack
I sat in the club chairin the corner of the room, trying to contain myself as Hailey straddled Ella on the white hotel sheets. From this angle, I could easily see Ella’s face and a quarter of Hailey’s profile, mostly dark hair, the curve of her hip, and the length of her leg, trapping Ella underneath her. I had no idea what Hailey had planned.
“Truth,” Ella said so quietly I strained to hear.
“Fuck you is my question,” Hailey snapped. “You didn’t even say goodbye? What, did you just think we were trash you could use up before you went back to your posh life?”
“That!” Ella sputtered, “is a completely unfair read on what happened! I didn’t use either of you! Jack was my boyfriend for years. Everyone knew about us. He was supposed to come to college with me.”
“So there it is!” Hailey leaned back, ass muscles bunching, toes flexed into the mattress. “Jack wasn’t trash. Just me.”
“I told you I loved you in front of everyone! I kissed you onstage!”
“And then you left! You left us here to clean up your mess. You couldn’t take the shame of what we were, so you ran away, but guess what? We couldn’t run away. We were freaks in this town. You nearly destroyed Jack!” Hailey stabbed a finger my way.
I didn’t get in between the two. They had to work it out for themselves. It was my job to get their stubborn asses in a room together, and I’d done my part. I grabbed a bottle of water from the minifridge and took a swig, adrenaline pumping so hard I was already dehydrated. See, this wasn’t Ella’s party. It was for Hailey. Hailey didn’t see it how I did; Ella tried her best...it just didn’t work out. I knew from my own family, sometimes love is a car wreck, not a happy ending. But it’s still love.
Maybe tonight would help them heal. This didn’t have to end in sex. We would figure out a truce, mend our hearts, and go our separate ways.
My dick definitely didn’t have that impression though.